Dear sisters and brothers,
today’s Gospel begins in a rather ordinary way: someone from the crowd says to Jesus, “Teacher, tell my brother to divide the inheritance with me.” It’s a request that many of us would understand. Property disputes are nothing unusual. They are part of everyday life – especially where family, a sense of injustice, or fairness is involved.But Jesus rejects this request. He says, “Man, who appointed me a judge or an arbiter over you?” And then he continues with words that go deep: “Be on your guard against all kinds of greed. Life does not consist in an abundance of possessions.”This is the key sentence of the entire passage. Jesus reveals that the person who came to him was not so much hungry for justice as for control, for security, for certainty. And Jesus responds: Security is not found in what you own. Your life is not built on wealth.

To make it even clearer, he tells a parable. He speaks of a man who had a plentiful harvest. He thinks about what to do with it, decides to build bigger barns, and store everything he has there. He plans: “Soul, you have many goods laid up for many years; relax, eat, drink, and be merry.” But right then comes the voice of God: “You fool! This very night your soul will be demanded of you. And who will own what you have prepared?”

This man is not evil. He’s not a thief or an oppressor. He is simply a person who believed that his life was secured by what he possessed. But Jesus shows: this is an illusion. Real life is a gift. And a gift is not something we control. It can be taken away at any time. And then it no longer matters how much we had – but who we were, for whom we lived, how we loved.Someone might say: well, I don’t have barns full of grain. This doesn’t apply to me. But this is where the Gospel touches us most deeply. Because security is not only about money. Our “possessions” can be our status, our certainty, our reputation, our home, our comfort, even our time. And if someone touches us in these areas – if they are somehow “threatened” – we quickly find out where our heart truly is.

This profound theme is also powerfully illustrated in the Finnish film Patrinoj – translated as Mothers. It takes place in a fictional wartime era. In one mother’s home, there is warmth, peace, sufficiency. She has a healthy newborn, a husband, a safe environment. Then one day she finds another mother in her cellar – a refugee. A woman who has nothing – only a baby wrapped in rags. She pleads: “Let me sleep here tonight. Otherwise, we’ll be caught and killed.”

And in that first mother, an inner battle begins. To hide her means to risk everything: her possessions, her child’s life, her husband’s life. Yet she lets her sleep in the cellar – on the condition that she leaves in the morning.Even more dramatic is the moment when an officer and his wife come to the house. If they were to discover someone is hiding in the cellar, everything would be lost. And yet they survive it. But eventually comes the deepest decision: the refugee’s child becomes seriously ill. The mother in the house knows she can help – but only if she claims the child as her own. Only then will the doctor accept him. Her husband is firmly against it. He knows they would both be executed. And she? The woman who once hesitated and feared for her house, her child, her reputation – suddenly identifies with the other mother. She realizes that their love, their pain, their motherhood is the same.

And she decides. She goes to the doctor and says: “This is my child.” And the child is saved.That is the Gospel in motion. That is the transformation of Jesus’ word into action. That woman understood what it means to be rich before God. Not by what she preserved – but by what she dared to risk in the name of mercy, humanity.

Brothers and sisters, there is a part of the barn man in each of us. We long for peace, security, certainty. But God calls us beyond that. He calls us to a courage greater than comfort. To a faith that can step beyond fear. To a love that is not afraid to lose – because it is there that true wealth is born.

And so today, let us ask ourselves:
– What is my security?
– What am I most afraid to lose?
– Am I ready to risk my comfort to preserve love, faith, and humanity?

 Amen

Sermon by the pastor V. V. Karbusický

Dear sisters, dear brothers,
today, on the 6th Sunday after Easter, also called Exaudi, translated as "listen". We are in a special time. We stand between the Ascension of the Lord and the sending of the Holy Spirit. It is a time of expectation, a time of preparation, but also a time of some tension - like the disciples who gathered in Jerusalem after Jesus' ascension, awaiting the fulfillment of the promise of the Advocate.
In this in-between time, the liturgy presents us with a passage from John 17:20-26, Jesus' High Priestly prayer. It is the prayer that Jesus prayed shortly before his arrest and crucifixion. And it is in this prayer, as Jesus faces his death, that he thinks not only of his present disciples, but also of us - all who will believe through their witness.
1. Unity as God's gift
"That all may be one, as you, Father, are in me, and I in you, that they also may be in us." These words are not just wishful thinking. It is Jesus' prayer, his desire, his vision for the church. The unity Jesus speaks of is not something we can create on our own. It is not an organizational structure or a mere agreement in beliefs. It is a gift that comes from the very nature of God.
Notice that Jesus is not asking us to be the same, but to be in unity. There is no uniformity in the Trinity - the Father is not the Son and the Son is not the Holy Spirit - and yet they are perfectly united in love and purpose. Likewise, we in the Church are different - we have different gifts, different callings, different experiences - and yet we can be united in Christ.
Here in Milevsko, in our congregation of the Czechoslovak Hussite Church, we also experience this diversity. We are of different ages, different professions, with different life stories. And yet we are united by one Lord, one faith, one baptism. This unity is not our creation, but God's gift.
2. Unity as a witness to the world
Jesus continues in prayer, "that the world may believe that you have sent me." The unity of believers has a missionary dimension. It is not an end in itself, but is meant to be a witness to the world. When people see that despite our differences we can live in love and mutual respect, it is a powerful witness to God's presence among us.
Conversely, when we as Christians argue, divide and fight against each other, we give the world reason to doubt the truth of our message. As an old saying goes: "Your actions speak so loudly that I cannot hear what you say."
At a time when our society is increasingly polarized, when people are closing themselves off into bubbles of opinion, and when dialogue is often replaced by monologues, our unity in Christ is a more important witness than ever.
3. Unity based on God's love
"I have made your name known to them, and will make it known to them, that the love with which you have loved me may be in them, and that I may be in them." The basis of unity is the knowledge of God and His love. The more we come to know God, the more we are able to love others with His love.
This love is not a superficial sentiment. It is a love that sacrifices, that puts others first, that forgives and endures. It is the love that Jesus demonstrated on the cross. And it is this love that is the cement that binds us together.

4. Unity as a journey, not a destination
Brothers and sisters, we must admit that the perfect unity for which Jesus prays is still a goal for us to work towards, not a reality that we already fully experience. Our Church, like all of Christendom, is marked by division, misunderstanding and sometimes conflict.
But this must not discourage us. Unity is a path we walk, not a place we already stand. It is a process, not a one-time event. And on this journey we are guided by the Holy Spirit, whose sending we will celebrate a week from today at Pentecost.
Conclusion
Sisters and brothers, in this time between Ascension and Pentecost, we are invited to pray for unity. Not only for the unity of our congregation or our church, but for the unity of all who confess Jesus Christ as Lord.
We are invited to be an answer to Jesus' prayer. To show the world through our lives, our relationships, our love for others, that God is truly among us.
And we are also called to hope. To hope that despite all the divisions and conflicts, unity is possible because it is not based on our abilities, but on God's love and God's power.
As we approach the Lord's Table together in a few moments, let us remember that it is here, in the breaking of the bread and the sharing of the cup, that this unity becomes visible. Here we are all one in Christ, regardless of our differences.
"That all may be one." May this prayer of Jesus also become our prayer and our life program.
Amen.

Vladimir V. Karbusicky, pastor in Milevsko

Dear brothers and dear sisters,
Today we will reflect together on the text from the Gospel of John (Jn 21:1-19), which brings us the testimony of the encounter between the risen Jesus and his disciples at Lake Tiberias. This story, set after Easter, brings us some important messages for our life of faith today.
The story begins with the disciples returning to fishing - to their regular work. Even after their encounter with the risen Christ, they return to their daily reality. Isn't it the same with us? We experience the joy of Easter, but then we return to everyday life, to work, to the cares of ordinary life.
The disciples fish all night without success. I confess that even I often wonder if what I am doing is right. Sometimes I succumb to the pressures of today's performance society - I feel that I am not doing enough, that I have not accomplished what I should. How many times have I fallen into bed at night feeling like I've emptied my nets, even though I've been "fishing" all day. I think this feeling of futility is something we are all familiar with.
But this story reminds us of the importance of what is called kairos - God's proper timing. Unlike the term chronos, the ordinary passage of time, the term kairos refers to that special, God-filled moment when something crucial changes. The disciples hunted all night (in chronos), but success came only in God's kairos - when Jesus appeared. Even in our lives, we need to distinguish between the mere passage of time and those special moments when God speaks to us.
Jesus comes to the disciples in the ordinary moment of their lives - at work. They don't recognize him right away, but he is with them. So it is with us - Christ is present in our everyday lives, even though we may not immediately recognize him.

When the disciples take his advice and cast their nets on the other side, they experience the miracle of abundance. This is a powerful message for today: when we allow Christ to speak into our "taken-for-granted" decisions, our habitual ways of doing things, unexpected blessings can come.
John, the beloved disciple, is the first to know the Lord. He reminds us that love has a keener eye than reason. In these days when we are overwhelmed with information and analysis, we need to cultivate the ability to see with our hearts - to recognize God's presence in our lives.
For this, Peter reacts impulsively - jumping into the water to get to Jesus as quickly as possible. His enthusiasm reminds us that faith is not just a matter of reason, but also a passionate desire.
Jesus invites the disciples to share a meal together. He prepares a meal for them, yet invites them to bring some of their catch. This scene reminds us that God invites us to fellowship with him, where he provides everything we need, yet values our contribution, however small it may be.
You see, I am becoming more and more aware of the importance of fellowship at the table with family and friends. It's not just about the meal itself, but about that precious space where we can experience true belonging with others. When we eat together, we share not only the food, but also our lives, joys and concerns. And it is there, in these ordinary moments, that God's love, Christ's love, is present. How many times have I experienced that it is at the table, at a meal together, that the most important conversations have taken place, reconciliation has taken place, new ideas have been born.
In an age of individualism and virtual relationships, this invitation to real communion at the table is extremely important. Christ invites us to authentic communion with him and with each other.
The most compelling part of the story is Jesus' conversation with Peter. Three times he asks him, "Do you love me?" It gives him the opportunity for a threefold declaration of love that balances his threefold denial. What a wonderful message of hope for each of us!
How many times have we ourselves failed, denied our faith by our actions or words? How many times have we failed to live up to our commitments? And yet Christ comes and gives us a new chance. He does not ask, "Why have you denied me?" but "Do you love me?" Love is more important than our past failures.
With every declaration of love by Peter comes the command, "Feed my lambs," "Feed my sheep." Love for Christ is demonstrated by service to others. This is the message that our society, focused on personal success and self-realization, urgently needs to hear.
Let us note that the basis of service is not perfection, but love. Peter was not perfect, he failed, and yet he is called to lead. This is an encouragement to each of us - even with our imperfections we can serve if we love Christ.
Brothers and sisters, the story from Lake Tiberias reminds us that the risen Christ comes into our everyday lives, into our failures and successes, into our relationships. He comes to offer us forgiveness, renewal and new meaning.
Perhaps right now we feel like the disciples after a night of unsuccessful fishing - tired, disappointed, with empty nets. Maybe we are like Peter, weighed down by the knowledge of our own failure. The good news is that Christ is standing on the shore of our lives, preparing a meal for us and inviting us to himself.
May we hear his voice again this Easter season, recognize his presence, and answer his question, "Do you love me?" with a sincere, "Yes, Lord, you know I love you." And may we then, in the strength of that love, be able to feed his sheep - to serve those he has entrusted to us.
Amen.
Sermon by Br. Vladimir V. Karbusicky, pastor in Milevsko

Dear sisters, dear brothers,
Today we celebrate the most joyful day of the Christian year - the day of the resurrection of our Lord Jesus Christ. The Gospel of John (John 20:1-18) tells us about that first Easter morning with words that have lost none of their power and urgency even after two thousand years.
Mary Magdalene comes to the tomb in darkness. This darkness is not just physical - it is the darkness of sadness, hopelessness, loss. How many times do we also come to various tombs of our hopes, relationships, dreams? How many times do we also stand in darkness and weep because something precious has been taken from us?
Mary finds the stone rolled away and the empty tomb. At first she thinks someone has taken away Jesus' body. She does not yet understand that something much more amazing has happened - that what seemed definitively dead was called to new life by God's power.
Friends, this is the message we need to hear today perhaps more than ever before. Even what seems dead in our lives can rise to new life. Relationships that have died out. Hopes that have dimmed. Dreams that have dissolved. None of this needs to be a final state.
The resurrection tells us that love, love is stronger than death. That God's power exceeds all our ideas of what is possible and what is not. That even where we see only an end, God can see a new beginning.

Notice that Mary does not recognize Jesus at first. She thinks he is the gardener. The risen Christ is not simply a return to the previous state - it is an entry into a new, transformed existence.
We too are called to transformation. Easter challenges us not to remain who we have been, but to become who we are meant to be. Each day is an opportunity for our small resurrection, for a small step on the path to our better self.
This is not about superficial change, about some resolution that we will forget in a week. It is about a deep transformation that comes from our encounter with Christ. A transformation that touches the very core of our being.
When Jesus addresses Mary by name, she immediately recognizes him. This personal address by name is crucial. It reminds us that faith is not a set of abstract truths, but a personal relationship with God who knows us by name.
And this relationship with God is reflected in our relationships with other people. After all, in every person we meet, God's image is somehow mirrored. An old rabbinical saying states that the eye is the window to the soul. When we look into the eyes of our loved ones, we can glimpse a reflection of God's presence there.
However, this window needs to be maintained. How often do we let our relationships become overgrown with the mold of misunderstanding, dusty with indifference, covered with cobwebs of unspoken grievances? Easter is a time when we can clean these windows so that we can once again glimpse God's light in those we love.
Mary receives a mission from the risen Christ: "Go to my brothers and tell them..." She becomes the first messenger of the resurrection. We too are sent to witness through our lives to the hope that the risen Christ gives us.
It's not just about words. It's about how we live, how we love, how we forgive. It's about whether others can see in us a reflection of Easter joy and hope.
Sisters and brothers, the Easter story reminds us that even in the darkest moments of our lives, God is with us. That even where we see only an end, God may be preparing a new beginning. That even what seems definitively dead can be called to new life.
May this hope accompany us not only today, but every day of our lives. May it strengthen us in times of trial and may it inspire us to be bearers of Easter joy in a world that needs it so much.
Christ is risen! Truly he is risen! Alleluia!
Amen.

sermon by br. Vladimír V. Karbusický, pastor in Milevsko

Dear sisters, dear brothers,
The Passion (John 18:1 - 19:42) that we heard today is immensely rich. It carries the very essence of our faith - the cross, sacrifice, faithfulness, hope.
The whole story begins with a simple question - Whom do you seek? And when they heard the answer - I am he, they fell to the ground. A simple question - a simple answer. What would we answer if someone asked us - whom do we seek? Perhaps what do we seek? Are we thinking of others or rather of ourselves? Jesus's words "I am he" hold up a mirror to us. What would I answer if someone asked me that question - "who are you?"
A person, a simple person with the deeds I have done, that I do. With the life I lead. I try to live so that at the end of my life, I can say - It was worth it. Each of us deals with various obstacles - whether family relationships, unfulfilled dreams, a failed relationship. But it is good to realize that every such experience shapes us. It forms us into the people we are. By following Jesus's example, we try to be good people. Even though we fall, we can always get up and be stronger. And how is this possible? It's actually simple - Here I am, this is me. I am who I am and I try as much as possible to come closer to my heavenly brother.
In the middle of the story, there is a mention of how Peter denied knowing Jesus, that he belonged to him. In recent times, professing faith was a quick way to end up losing your job. Children couldn't get into schools. And in some cases, people went to prison because of this human nature - to believe. These days we commemorate the anniversary of Action K. When it was about the beginning of the liquidation of male religious orders and later female orders followed. A large number of people affected in this way proved their faith. They did not deny Jesus, they did not deny their faith. Whew, that must have been an incredible and deep faith.

When we are doing well and thinking about it, we often tell ourselves that something like this is possible to endure. That we would not deny our faith and would proudly profess it. But when it comes, so to speak, to the breaking of bread, faith suddenly recedes into the background. Basic human instincts come to the surface - save yourself and do what you can for it. I don't know how I would have behaved then. I think it simply depends on the situation. It depends on how I was raised, how pressure was applied to me. We don't need to go to such extremes, but we can look at our lives. Often we also have to decide on serious matters that at first glance have nothing to do with faith, but in the background it is there. What if a situation arises where we have to decide whether to accept treatment, when our decision will affect our loved ones? Are we able in such a situation to think mainly about our faith? To fulfill Jesus's words about love? Perhaps it is good that the result, that is, the correct assessment of the decision, comes later. But why blame ourselves that now we would decide differently? We simply decided what we considered right in that situation. And if we now see that we should have decided differently? So let's take it as a lesson. Perhaps we were meant to gain a lesson that we should have trusted more. Just as Jesus trusted his Father that what he was undergoing was necessary.
The story culminates at the moment when people who were uncomfortable with Jesus threw the responsibility for his fate into Pilate's hands. He understood that Jesus was innocent, that everything he said and did was public. And why didn't they intervene earlier? Therefore, he threw the responsibility for this step onto the crowd, which was, however, incited by the high priests. And therefore they shouted for freedom for the villain - Barabbas. Unfortunately, even today we see that space is given to people who shout. They spit venomous saliva on everyone around. When it comes to court, to prove the truth, they say they did nothing. They only said what is publicly known, what people say among themselves. They don't have the courage to say - Yes, I said that. In a way, I like the statement of former President Trump's spokesman when they convicted him of lying. He defended himself by saying he was telling an alternative truth.
Yes, occasionally each of us can lie. Can say something that they later regret. It is important to admit it, forgive yourself and learn from it. And accept the consequences, not make excuses.
In conclusion, I would like to stop at Jesus's last words - My God, why have you forsaken me? I believe that at that moment he felt incredible helplessness, fear. But immediately afterwards he said - It is finished. In that I see an incredibly strong gesture of faith. Even though he felt he was dying, he trusted God that it was necessary. It is necessary to undergo for our salvation and the salvation of the world.
This whole story shows us how to approach life as such. With humility in the heart and with an open mind. It is necessary to be humble. Not to be afraid to ask for help. If someone offers help, do not reject them. Have clear boundaries when such help or offer is already uncomfortable.
God, grant that we may take strength from the sacrifice of Your Son. May we be strong in cases where it seems to us that we are at the bottom. And realize that we have a strong intercessor, a brother who always stands by us. On the cross it seems that everything ends. But in reality, everything begins there. Jesus says "It is finished" - and we may hear: "For you. For you. With you." Amen

sermon by br. Břetislav T. Karal, seminarian